;

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They surely will not distress me further," said my father; "what can they gain by it? I have given up every thing."

Bolster winked, and answered, "In course you have. I never knew a bankrupt yet as hadn't. And when you goes up for your degrees on Monday week, and they ask you to surrender, you'll turn your pockets inside out, and show 'em the dirty lining, and the farden you got in change for the half-pint, and take your oath you haven't another farden in the world to make that a ha'penny, and kiss the book to show there's no doubt about it, but that it's all quite true and regular, and no mistake."

"I wouldn't hunt them in misfortune," said my father, "as some of these men are following me. They'll persecute me to the grave; it is a dreadful thing to have a merciless creditor."

"Now," continued Bolster, "I have seen a good deal of this here sort of life, and I don't mind them merciless ones at all. I likes a savage to begin with; you tames him by degrees. It's your quiet and innocent boys as I dreads; them as was never

in court afore, and cuddles the Bible when they swears to their debts, and kisses it so very hard. Them chaps always looks as if they had walked into a place of worship, where him as is most religious, and kisses hardest gets best pay. Nothing less than one-andtwenty shillings in the pound comes up to their belief; and ain't they wilder than heathens when they diskiver it's only three-ha'pence? Give me a fellow as is used to it, and knows the worst, and who blows at the book a mile off from his lips, 'cause he's internally satisfied that if he presses it ever so close, he couldn't press the dividend up to twopence. You may do wonders with a chap as is resigned, but I'm blessed if there is any moving one as is disappointed. That's my experience; and now, young gentleman, if you'll be so kind as to take the nightcap off that porter, I shall be happy to wish the old gentleman safe over his troubles."

My father carried on a conversation respecting his affairs in an under tone with Mr Growler, Bolster, at the same time, initiating me into the Eleusinian mysteries of the Court of Bankruptcy. Both gentlemen were, as it is technically called, in possession of our house and its contents. Their sympathies were clearly engaged on my father's behalf, and many observations that escaped them, tended to produce the conviction that any office of kindness which they could perform for us consistently with their duty, or, more accurately to speak, consistently with their safety, and with their security from detection, should on no account be withheld. A species of paraphrase which Mr Growler employed when he took leave of us at the close of supper, placed this matter beyond all doubt. "A man, Mr Stukely," said he, “isn't accountable for what happens when he's fast asleepthat's morally certain. Bolster and I are not early risers; we like to indulge-on a Sunday morning especially. You may have noticed that the mornings are dark, I may say very dark. It is surprising how much may be done before breakfast-are you aware that the inventory isn't finished? It is a remarkable fact, that the stock in the parlour isn't in the catalogue at all. I am not obliged to know every thing; I mean to say, there's no law to make me. I hope I do my public duty faithfully; but in this free country every man has a

The look of things up-stairs was even more desperate and comfortless than below. The furniture had been torn from every room. The largest apartment contained a temporary bed made upon the floor, a small deal table, and a solitary chair-nothing in the world besides. The room was icycold, and when my father entered it, holding before me his small piece of dimly-burning candle, it seemed as if he were lighting me to a dungeon. I slept with him that night. In the morning, I reminded him of his promise, and prayed him to give me some account of my absent mother. He desired me to accompany him to the room which, in their days of prosperity, had been their sleeping apartment; I did so. There was not a moveable in the place. He locked the door, and opened a very small cupboard which was in a corner of the room. He produced a hat covered with crape to the very crown, and a man's suit of black clothes. I screamed out, and dropped into his arms. When I recovered, my father was bending over me with a countenance pale as death, but dispossessed of all violent emotion.

"I would not put them on, Caleb," he said, in a voice of unnatural calmness, "until you had been informed of the fact. She is gone. I am here to tell it you. You are alive to hear it." "Father," I enquired, “ when was it-how-what was the cause? Sudden it must have been. Oh, let me know all Merciful Heaven, what a blow is this!"

"Grief, grief, grief," replied my father, repeating the words with a painful emphasis, " grief, such as only she could feel-blighting, withering anxiety and distress. For whom? For one who never cared to estimate the priceless worth of her absorbing and unselfish love."

I shook, and my brain writhed with an aching sense of guilt.

"Caleb, you are not unprepared for this you cannot be. I warned you of the retribution that would follow upon ingratitude, and a mad neglect

"Father, do not say so. not mean it.

You can

It is not true. Did I

"Break her heart?" he added quickly. "You did-may God forgive you for it!"

I fell upon my knees, and seized his hand, and wrung it in the extremity of mental suffering. "Father," I

cried out, " do you forgive me! I have been a guilty wretch indeed. I have committed a most dreadful crime. I am her murderer!" I stopped, sobbing bitterly.

No Caleb, I did not say that exactly," faltered my poor father.

"Oh yes, I am; and if I live for years-for ever-I cannot wash away the infamy. I can never make my repentance known to her. She can never behold the remorse and sorrow

of my aching heart. She can never forgive me. But do not you discard me. Father, I will never leave you ; I will slave for your happiness and comfort. Don't cast me away! Don't think me unworthy of your love-below your consideration! If we have lost her God, what a dreadful thought!-if she is taken from us, how much more do you need the sympathy and help of your own flesh and blood! You cannot understand all that I have suffered from your cold and crushing silence. You would pity me if you did. I cannot live and bear it. Dear father, I repent-I remember the past with bitterness-with shame, with hatred of myself. Let me obliterate it by serving you obediently and lovingly for the time to come-dearest father, let me !"

"Say no more, boy," answered my father, returning my own trembling pressure of the hand, " say no more. She forgave and blessed you. I must not be cruel. May I confide in you, Caleb?" he asked, after a pause.

"I cannot wonder that you hesitate to do so," I replied. "In truth, father, I have given you no cause to trust me."

"But I will trust you, Caleb. You noticed the rude tone and manner of the man to whom we owed our meal last night. I was not angry with him. It is the mode they practise towards the broken down and ruined. He meant no harm. Integrity and insolvency are, to these men's view, as far asunder as vice and virtue. The bankrupt is a criminal-he is without the social circle-an object to be stared at, despised, and shunned; bantered with for a moment, if you please, but avoided ever after. He has ceased to be of the community-the life-blood has left him. You will hear them, Caleb, talking of the bankrupt, as the living talk of a corpse. That man may be excused; but the creditors, Calebmen who in their hearts know me better-accuse me of the vilest practices; they taunt me with the commission of acts impossible for me to conceive. Their loses have made them demons; they are infuriated at the consequences of a blow which, as it fell, only grazed them, but lacerated and mangled me. They are bent upon the destruction of my good name, and would make that bankrupt too. Caleb, it must never be. We must work night and day to clear away the heap of opprobrium beneath which they would bury the precious jewel of my life. We will prove to them and to the world that I am spotless."

"We will, dear father," I exclaimed, burning with enthusiasm.

"You must do more, Caleb. Let me be proved innocent, as our sense of justice would demand, as our hearts could wish: remember, to an extent, I must die with a dishonoured name; with debts unpaid, obligations undischarged-leaving no means of satisfying them. This is a stigma no energy can remove. If you wish me to lay down my head in peace on my deathbed-soon I shall be called to do it, be it in peace or trouble-if you wish my spirit to be happy when my body is at rest, make me one promise now. Promise me to strive, to labour in every honourable way to realize a sum sufficient for the payment of these debts. If you are in earnest, God will prosper your exertions, and the memory which I leave covered with disgrace shall assuredly be made bonourable again by you. Can you promise this to me

"Father, I beseech you to dictate

the solemn promise in the terms you deem most fit, and I will make it cheerfully."

"It is enough," he said, "and I rely upon you.'

The very same day, my father and I commenced an investigation of his accounts preparatory to a statement of his affairs, which was to be produced at his forthcoming examination before the officers of the law. He set about the task with the vigour of youth, and with the spirit and life which he had ever infused into his business transactions. In the prosecution of the exciting employment, its disastrous nature was forgotten, and he daily rose from his long-continued labours, as satisfied and rejoiced, as if profit, reward, and honour, were to be the result of all the patient toil. And were they not to be? What gain, what recompense, what dignity could his upright and manly understanding acknowledge superior to those which would follow the acknowledgment and publication of his unblemished character? I knew nothing of accounts, but I was happy beyond expression in the mechanical work which I was enabled to perform, and in the steady application which was so gratifying to my untiring parent. Many times, in the casting up of a long line of figures, a sudden thought of my poor dear mother would check the upward progress of my pen, dissipate the carefully-accumulated numbers, and mingle drops of sacred water with the dry and hardened ink; but the inspiriting and incessant occupation saved me from many bitter reflexions, and tended to break the fall of a calamity, which otherwise I could ill have borne. My father was fairly roused by the advancement and extent of our labours, and he displayed an exuberant, an almost childish gladness in the pursuit of his object, that permitted not the intrusion of extraneous thoughts. He spoke not of my mother; but my faithful adherence and unflinching constancy drew from him the most fervent expressions of affectionate gratitude.

"I was a noble boy-he forgave me every thing-he was sure that I should keep my plighted word. God would prosper my exalted efforts, and we should all three meet again in Heaven-reunited." After we had been a few days together, he could not bear me to leave his sight. If circum

stances called me away for a few minutes, I heard him, abandoning his work, move immediately from his seat, walk impatiently about the room, and at last hasten to the door, and there listen for my return: if it were postponed for a minute longer, he either called my name repeatedly and anxiously, or himself sought me, wherever he thought me most likely to be found.

Our work was at length completed, and nothing could exceed the transport of my poor father when he contemplated and devoured with his eyes the long-expected and remunerating result. A lucid statement of all his affairs during the seven years preceding his failure was given in a few pages, and references were made from these to his books, in such a manner, that, in an instant, any single transaction during the entire period could be arrived at, and then subjected to the severest enquiry. His 'balancesheet, in which his losses were accounted for, and were shown to proceed not from improvidence or fraud. ulency, but from the sudden and unlooked-for fluctuations of a foreign trade from the insolvency, in fact, of other parties-he gloated over with an admiration and pride that contrasted strangely with the deep feeling of mortification and shame with which he had a few days before dwelt upon his social degradation. He carried these papers about with him as a protection and passport against the rude enquiries of enemies and strangers, as though he deemed himself unsafe without them, passing through a land of calumny with the universal eye of suspicion constantly upon him. Little need be said of the gala-day-for such it was to him-on which he underwent the close scanning of his creditors, and passed with honour through the fiery ordeal. One circumstance connected with it cannot, however, be omitted. It has to do with Mr Levy. Like all other dreaded things that sooner or later arrive at their full growth, my unfortunate bill of a hundred pounds came gradually and safely to maturity. Mr Levy, in his own phrase, "sought me high and low," and not finding me at last, proceeded to assert his claim upon my goods and chattels. The tutor of the college contested the good man's right; the latter held up the strong

That

arm of the law, and plea and counterplea had been briskly fired, when my father's failure saved further shots, by carrying the settlement into other hands. The creditors opposed the claim of Mr Levy upon the ground of my minority, and my consequent inability to contract the debt. worthy gentleman met the general opposition with a poetical invention, beautifully conceived, but somewhat badly executed. When I entered the room with my father upon the day of his examination, three objects caught my notice. The first was Levy, père, sitting upon a stool, and biting his nails with much anxiety; the second was young Master Isaac, sitting near him, loaded with account-books to his chin; the third was a dark-visaged gentleman, made in the same mould as Levy senior, looking very shrewd and cunning, but taking some pains to invest his features with a veil of unconscious innocence, not thick enough to answer its design. As I passed the youthful Ikey, my shins were favoured with a violent kick. I turned upon the boy, and the young fiend was feigning sleep upon a ledger. All other questions being disposed of, Mr Levy's claim was last to be considered. His name was called, and my old friend rose.

"Give me dem books, my boy," were the first accents of that wellknown voice.

"Stay," said a perk and new fledged barrister, employed to grapple with the well-trained Levy; Stay, we may dispense with books."

66

"As you please. I vants to prove my lawful debt. You needn't try to bother me; I've got my vitnesses."

The plea of minority was then advanced. The learned gentleman spoke mysteriously and rather episodically for about an hour, and concluded by saying, that the bankrupt's son being an infant, the chattels in question had been de facto the chattels of the bankrupt, and were now de jure the chattels of the assignees, they themselves being the locum tenentes of the creditors at large. Having uttered which words, he resumed his seat with a smile of content. Mr Levy begged permission to introduce a very credible witness, who had been present when the bankrupt's son had distinctly averred that he was twenty-five years of age, upon the faith of which statement he, Mr

Levy, had at length raised the loan, and now relied upon the satisfaction of his claim. His witness was desired to appear; Master Isaac stood up, and my hair stood on end. Ikey, however, was not in a good humour. "How old are you, boy?" enquired the lawyer.

"I don't know," said the imp. “Oh, indeed. Perhaps you'll know something else. What is an oath?"

"Why, nothink at all to si'nify." "Oh, it isn't, isn't it?" enquired the lawyer, with great acuteness. "This is your witness, Mr Levy, eh? Oh, ho! ha, ha! Now, mark and listen, boy. If an oath is nothing to signify, what is it not to signify ?" The gentleman adjusted his wig and gown, both of which had been startled out of their propriety by the previous display of his eloquence.

"Oh, that's all very fine, mister," replied the impertinent chip of Mosaic: 66 come to the point, and let us swear. You'll believe me then; and if I don't, you won't."

"What's your name, my sweet youth?" asked the lawyer, very politely.

"Isaac Levy," responded the boy. "And do you think, Isaac Levy, that there is such a place as Hell?”

"Oh, don't I neither?" returned Ikey, with quickness. "Why, where do you think all the lawyers go to?"

The counsellor stopped, and forthwith enquired whether more was needed to prove the ignorance of the witness in respect of the awful nature of an oath. He was anwered in the ne gative, and young Ikey was dismissed. Mr Levy, by no means discouraged, stepped forward, and explained how he had taken all possible pains to secure his debt; that he had even sent a gentleman to London, to announce to the bankrupt the sum he intended to advance his son; that the bankrupt had sanctioned the loan, and was aware of the security that had been taken. The respectable gentleman who had waited upon the bankrupt was now present, and prepared to take his oath to these facts; and when he had done so, Mr Levy fervently hoped that "nobody vouldn't vish him to be kept no longer out of his rights." This witness was summoned to the box. Levy's double briskly jumped into it, and my father's grey hairs became ten years whiter with sur

prise. The witness nodded in an affectionate manner to the bankrupt, whom, I need not say, he had never seen before.

Unfortunately for the persevering Levy, it was proved that my parent was five hundred miles from home at the time of the transaction. Whilst a witness was in the act of showing this beyond all doubt, Levy, finding the atmosphere too close and oppressive, took the opportunity to enjoy a little fresh air. Ikey and the boots sneaked after him. The dark gentleman, less nimble, waited just long enough to be detained and given into custody, upon a charge of wilful perjury.

His

True it is, that my father was dismissed with honour, but not less true, without a penny in the world. stock, his furniture, his all, were disposed of by public auction. His house passed into strange hands. He stood naked in life, with the juice of forty years' industry and mental energy drawn from him. After all his buffeting with the waves of fortune, to have advanced not one inch towards the haven he aspired to-it was a gloomy thought! to be hurled back upon the stony shore, hacked and torn, old, powerless, and spent-that' was harder still! But he did not murmur. He was subdued and humble. Patience was left him yet; he had preserved it from the general wreck; it identified him with his former self. Beyond it, what was there now remaining of the once cheerful and successful merchant? My father had now to look about for a place of refuge. He secured a small ill-furnished attic in one of the city's narrowest lanes. I had strongly urged him to rent an apartment away from London-in one of the suburbs-at a distance from old scenes and painful recollections; but he would not be persuaded. will never do," he said; "we must strangle in the birth, not nurse and strengthen, these cowardly apprehensions. I love the city's noise and bustle. I should die at once away from it." When my father had placed into the hands of his creditors, amongst other things, the gold watch he had worn for half a century, the latter was immediately returned to him. He converted it without delay to money, reserved a few guineas for our most pressing wants, and handed the residue to me, for the purpose of buying

"This